


Fairly Unfair

by Renabe



Series: Fear to Fondness [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Affectionate Clover, Fairgame, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Touch-starved Qrow, soft touches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22403275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renabe/pseuds/Renabe
Summary: "Sorry to barge in unannounced, but I heard a crash, and it looks like your door is broken." He gestured toward the door, hanging loosely on its hinges, with a point of his thumb to illustrate."Ah, that," Qrow coughed awkwardly, reaching a hand to rub the back of his neck. "That was my other niece." He wasn't initially planning to rat her out to anyone for that, but when Yang sent his scroll an emote of two dudes kissing earlier that day, well, his feelings on the matter changed.Set a few days after A Matter of Luck or Death, in which Clover and Qrow spend some quality time together.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fear to Fondness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612336
Comments: 20
Kudos: 220





	Fairly Unfair

**Author's Note:**

> So I teased this after my first work, and here we are! There was supposed to be more talking things out, and Qrow working on his need to take the blame for things... but it just turned into sweet fluff, mostly. Hope you're happy with that, haha. Enjoy!

Clover strode down the hall with purpose, recovered from his brush with death only a few nights prior. He hadn't seen Qrow since that night in the hospital wing, but he knew everyone had been kept busy with the aftermath of the disaster in Mantle. Hence, he waited until he knew both of their schedules were free before heading to Qrow's room.

As he rounded the last corner, a flurry of rose petals whipped past him and through the exact door he intended to visit. That certainly caught his attention, and he picked up the pace as he heard a loud crash from inside.

Clover flung open the door and ran into the room, calling, "Is everything okay?" Confusion knit his brows together as he was greeted with the sight of what looked to be Ruby pulling her uncle in through an open window. What exactly was going on here?

The young huntress jumped in surprise, letting go of her uncle, who lost his footing and grabbed the arm of the couch to stabilize himself. Ruby stammered, "W-we're all fine here! Just making sure Uncle Qrow made it in safely! Gotta go, bye!" In a flash of petals, she was gone, the door slamming behind her only to hang slightly ajar when the lock didn't click.

Qrow managed to stand up straight with more effort than he'd have liked. His shift back from a bird was rushed, Ruby opening the window just in time for him to avoid a real crash landing. He had returned from his mission separately from the others, unable to find a suitably hidden place to shift back. That was one secret he wasn't willing to share with the Ace Ops team.

"Should I be concerned? You weren't doing anything crazy like trying to jump, right?" The question was meant in jest, but it was laced with a hint of worry.

"Uh no," Qrow assured, remembering the other's presence before adding dryly, "My life may be a miserable joke most of the time, but I've always been a glutton for punishment, so I guess it suits me just fine." He laughed at the end, finding humor in his self-deprecating remark.

Clover didn't agree, leveling him with a hard stare to make his opinion known, before discarding the thought entirely and stating, "Sorry to barge in unannounced, but I heard a crash, and it looks like your door is broken." He gestured toward the door, hanging loosely on its hinges, with a point of his thumb to illustrate.

"Ah, that," Qrow coughed awkwardly, reaching a hand to rub the back of his neck. "That was my other niece." He wasn't initially planning to rat her out to anyone for that, but when Yang sent his scroll an emote of two dudes kissing earlier that day, well, his feelings on the matter changed.

At the other's puzzled look, he took a seat on the couch, patting the space beside him in a silent request for Clover to join him. The brunette was happy to oblige, and he moved deliberately, thigh just brushing against pale fingers as he sat. Perhaps a little too quick to withdraw his hand, Qrow found himself rubbing the back of his neck again, eyes looking at anything but the man beside him.

Ignoring the guilt at the hint of tension his recoil caused, he said, "I, uh, wasn't gonna cop to it, but those girls are the only reason I made it to your door the other night. And while I'm glad it happened, I figure I owe it to you to let you know that, er, they _know_."

Teal eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised as he watched heat rise to his partner's face, faint, but present all the same. "They were there?" He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped as the man next to him squirmed uncomfortably. It surprised him to see this side of Qrow, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying every second of it. He wanted to prod a little more. Purposefully stretching an arm over the back of the couch behind Qrow’s head, he asked, "So they heard us?"

But Qrow was onto him at this point and instead of fumbling in embarrassment, he countered, "Good thing we kept it PG-13, hm?" Oh, but the look he was giving the brunette was anything but, dark eyes staring hungrily as a wet tongue flicked out to lick his lips. And that was just unfair, Clover thought as he reigned in the urge to knock the man back against the cushions and climb on top of him for something more R rated.

“Hopefully round two won’t have to be,” he suggested with a wink instead.

Rolling his eyes, the older man laughed, “That may be a ways off, what with my broken door and all.”

Clover bit down on his lower lip, preventing an invite to his own room from slipping out. He would have voiced it if he didn’t catch the note of hesitation that dripped from the other’s words. After a moment too long of silence, he coughed into his free hand and admitted, “Well, I suppose as responsible adults that’s for the best. We probably have some talking to do before all that.”

“Yippee,” Qrow sighed unenthusiastically. The kind of talk insinuated by Clover’s tone was not the shapeshifter’s favorite thing, and if he was being honest, he had been clinging to some hope of avoiding it.

“So,” the brunette began, “I’m told Tyrian was killed.” The _by your hand_ was left unsaid, because he didn’t bring it up to discuss whether or not it was right to take out the scorpion. He brought it up because he knew Qrow would immediately reach for a certain spot on his stomach, and he was right. He waited a moment before asking, “Do you still feel it sometimes?”

"How do you," Qrow cut himself off, realizing it wasn’t the first time he'd reacted that way in front of Clover, a man too observant for his own good. He looked down at where he knew the scar rested under his clothes and sighed. “Not exactly. It’s just one more reminder of some bad dreams that are all too real.” He was never afraid of Tyrian, but those damned nightmares seemed to plague him more frequently whenever the scorpion was mentioned, his brain refusing to break the connection it made between the two ever since he dreamed of them feverishly for days on end.

A warm hand covered his own, surprising him into lifting wide eyes to meet sympathetic teal orbs. He would never get used to Clover’s endless displays of support, he thought as his own hand laced their fingers together without his permission. But he was starting to learn how to respond in a way that was good for him, that helped keep him grounded.

Clover, for all his appearance of having it together, had to force himself not to gawk at Qrow’s reaction. What he intended as a simple comforting gesture suddenly felt so intimate, and tan fingers twitched at the contact, new heat radiating all the way up his arm. His mind reeling, he stared into crimson eyes that seemed much less pained than moments before. The brunette willed himself to relax and let out a huff of air before offering a soft smile.

“Thanks, for… Well, just thanks. How about you?” Qrow nodded toward the man’s chest, asking “Does it still hurt?”

With an upward quirk of his lips, Clover reassured, “Not a bit, thanks to someone making sure I got treated right away.” He gave the hand laced with his a little squeeze, signaling he knew exactly who that was.

“Lucky for you, some sad sap with experience didn’t want you ending up with a similar scar,” Qrow laughed, trying to play off his slight jump at the new tingling sensation working its way through his body.

“That’s too bad, we could have matched.”

“Ugh, gross.” The shapeshifter laughed even harder, adding, “Next thing I know you’ll be asking for matching outfits like some dumb teenager with a crush.”

Clover had a great comeback for that, really. But it was lost before it reached his lips as he just watched the mirth that spread itself on his partner’s face. It was enthralling to see someone usually so reserved just let go and be, dare he say, silly. It filled his chest with a warmth he never knew he didn’t have before, just seeing Qrow snicker at his own joke.

Qrow glanced up, noticing the stillness beside him and huffed, “Hey, I thought that was pretty funny.” His grin faded away to a puzzled expression when Clover didn’t respond and just kept _looking_ at him. Looking at him like he wasn’t sure he was real or something.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly, still unable to take his eyes off of the other’s face. He watched as Qrow’s features slipped from stunned, no doubt unused to hearing such a word directed at him, to downright confused. Clover could tell the moment the raven-haired man was going to protest, and interrupted him, moving his hand from the back of the couch in a fluid motion to run fingers through dark locks.

Qrow found himself leaning into the touch almost instantly, closing his eyes briefly to just feel the gentle caress. He blinked a few times and through half lidded eyes sent an accusatory stare to his counterpart. "I know what you're doing, and it isn't going to work forever."

"Good, I want you to get used to physical affection. So used to it that you expect it every day."

"E-every day is a bit much, don'cha think," came a rushed reply, red orbs darting to the side as he tried to grasp what exactly brought on the insistence. Was it really that obvious how touch-starved he was?

Clover grinned, feeling confident about the new task he'd given himself, and squeezed Qrow's hand again. "I would consider myself very lucky if you let me do this every day."

The shapeshifter squeezed back, letting his eyes close as he asked, "Was this talk just an excuse to flatter an old man?" The tiniest of smiles betrayed his inner amusement, but he just couldn't _help_ it. The big lug already knew the effect he had on him, and it was getting increasingly difficult to pretend he didn't enjoy it.

A chuckle escaped the brunette, and he leaned in to nose at Qrow’s cheek as he teased, “Does it still count as flattery if it’s sincere.” He was going to lean back to see what kind of wonderful expression that act earned him, until he felt cool fingers slide to the back of his neck, holding him in place. Somehow he had forgotten there was still a free hand between them.

Qrow brushed his fingers against short strands of hair at the nape of Clover’s neck, indulging in the warmth that he felt there and enjoying the pleasant grumble he managed to coax from the man. It caught him off guard, though, and he shuddered in response. Swallowing nervously, Qrow admitted, “You’re driving me crazy, lucky charm.”

“Good crazy?” Clover asked, tilting his head ever so slightly so that his lips brushed against the other’s face. It was on purpose, of course. Finally being able to touch Qrow made him want to be a little more greedy, to take as much as he would be allowed.

Qrow hummed an affirmative, letting the brunette place chaste pecks along his cheek. It almost tickled and was so different from the needy kissing back in the hospital room. It was so tender and foreign to him that he was unsure how to react. He turned his head toward Clover, intending to catch those lips with his own.

Just as he made contact, a blaring alert from his scroll startled him into pulling back, swearing as he yanked the cursed device from his pocket. It was a message. Ugh, the raven-haired man thought as he glared at a new inappropriate emote from his older niece. Ruby must have gotten back to the others and told them Clover was in his room. He groaned in annoyance before the device was plucked from his hands and tossed aside.

“Clover,” he warned, making to reach for his scroll, not caring about the message so much as whether or not the thing would break from mishandling.

“Leave it,” Clover nudged, tugging on the hair that was still in his grasp.

Qrow intended to glower at him for pulling his hair, but he deflated when met with a heated teal gaze, pupils blown wide with want. It was difficult to be angry with _that_. 

“I’m going to kiss you now, and neither of our scrolls is going to stop me.” He leaned into Qrow’s space, almost toppling him over in his urgency.

“O-okay, but the door-”

“Could swing wide open for all I care,” Clover smirked, pausing for any more objections from the man in his arms. When he received a quick nod of permission instead, he dove in to eagerly smother Qrow with affectionate kisses and gentle touches, warmth blossoming in his chest when the man grinned and returned the gestures just as fervently.

Yeah, he could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love the idea of Clover being stupidly affectionate when he's off the job. And who better to receive that affection than Qrow? He deserves it all!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Gonna do another shameless plug for my insta: renabe4life where you can find my fanart for these two. In another fic, To Be Okay, I said that fic was supposed to be stupid, so I turned the stupid bit into fanart instead.
> 
> Thanks again!


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